Alysha. Alysha is a person I judged too harshly and quickly. I put a label on her, thinking she ruined my family.
It was the summer of 2011, it was humid and everything was still. I could hear a few birds from the open window in my room. I was sitting on my bed playing on my phone while my little sister, Emma, was coloring some sort of squiggly man drawing on the floor. Then abruptly, my door swung open and mine and my sister’s head popped up and our dad walks nonchalantly in. He told us to come into the living room for a family meeting. Family meetings are a terrifying thing because either 1) someone died or 2) we’re moving. So we’re sitting down on the couch while my dad and stepmom give each other this look. My stepmom took a deep breath and started talking,
“As you know things have been going kinda rocky here, and you both know that we love you both very much.”
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My sister started sobbing while I got up and walked out of the room, pissed off and a little bit sad. When I say pissed, I mean they could probably see steam coming out of my ears but were too intimidated to say anything. Looking back now I have no idea why I was so incredibly angry, but it was mostly likely due to the fact that I was 12 and didn’t know how to manage my emotions.
So at about this point you’re probably like, “Jenna, this story has nothing to do with the writing requirements. Where is the part about your failure of kindness?” And the answer is: I’m getting to it. So, some time goes by, and now they’re completely separated. My sister and I were at my dad’s house again. We were outside and my dad called us over to the garage. He said he had a friend he wanted us to meet tonight. My sister looked at me and just kind of shrugged, she then went back to playing with the